After Becoming the Live-in Scummy Alpha, I Pamper Her with Real Strength - Chapter 9

Five years after the massacre that wiped out her sect, Lu Li had been diligently training in martial arts while secretly investigating the identity of her enemies. She had never come face to face with the mysterious figure who appeared that night, but the disappearance of the sect’s greatest treasure—the Eight Chariot Map—suggested their motive was clear.

Now, the map, which had vanished without a trace, suddenly resurfaced at the once-every-five-years Immortal Dao Convention held on Penglai Island. To investigate, Lu Li had no choice but to disguise herself and infiltrate the island.

It was there that she first encountered the second female lead, Wen Xiao—the eldest senior disciple of Penglai Island.

Wen Xiao was the direct disciple of Island Master Qionghua and one of the most formidable cultivators of the younger generation. She saw through Lu Li’s disguise and immediately questioned her origins.

Lu Li had no choice but to lie, claiming she came to Penglai Island to seek apprenticeship but, having failed the entrance trials, resorted to this method instead.

Wen Xiao suspected Lu Li’s motives were impure but found no concrete proof. She feigned acceptance and allowed Lu Li to stay while secretly monitoring her every move.

After a month or two of interaction, Lu Li gradually let down her guard, frequently roaming the island in search of the Eight Chariot Map’s secrets. One night, by accident, she stumbled into a forbidden area.

“Lu Li, I finally caught you in the act.”

Wen Xiao, who had secretly followed her, suddenly stepped out from behind a tree.

Yu Dongdong, dressed in a flowing azure robe, raised her sword and pointed it directly at He Song.

“Cut!” came the call from the director. The prop crew quickly moved in to fit He Song with a bl00d pack for the next take.

By the end of the day, He Song lay sprawled on a chair at the edge of the set, eyes closed, trying to rest. The director would call them again soon—if the scene passed, they could finally break; otherwise, they’d shoot again.

Everyone on the props and logistics teams was visibly exhausted, but all eyes were locked onto Yan Zhao in front of the monitor.

“That’s a wrap for today,” Yan Zhao finally declared, satisfied, his bloodshot eyes bright with excitement as he raised his yellow megaphone.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the crew, tension instantly draining from the air.

He Song found this crew quite fascinating. Upon asking, she learned they were Yan Zhao’s long-time film team.

The pace of film productions was vastly different from TV dramas. Yan Zhao would mentally rehearse the entire day’s scenes beforehand, optimizing every set to its limits. If he didn’t get the result he envisioned, they’d keep shooting—reshooting another day would not only increase costs but risk diminishing the overall visual impact.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

He Song turned to see Yu Dongdong, still in costume and drenched in sweat, coughing uncontrollably. She frowned. “Are you alright?”

Yu Dongdong waved her hand weakly, insisting she was fine.

But her pale face said otherwise. He Song poured her a cup of warm water and casually unfastened a button on her costume. “If you’ve got a headache or a fever, my assistant has medicine.”

As He Song leaned in, Yu Dongdong instinctively clutched her collar and pulled away, her soft red lips bitten tight. “Really, there’s no need, Sister Jiang. Thank you.”

Yu Dongdong’s assistant arrived with a light jacket. Seeing this scene, she quickly draped it over her actress and shot He Song a glare.

He Song blinked in confusion. What did I do?

Why did Yu Dongdong’s assistant look at her like she was the villain?

“She looked unwell, so I was just trying to help,” He Song explained.

“I appreciate Miss Jiang’s concern,” the assistant said with a fake smile that barely concealed her hostility. “But Dongdong only has a slight cold. I’ll take care of her—no need to trouble yourself.”

Lili, He Song’s assistant, couldn’t take it anymore. “He Song was just being considerate. Why are you talking like that?”

Yu Dongdong’s assistant raised an eyebrow and snapped, “I thanked Miss Jiang. What’s so rude about that? Dongdong is a sweet, trusting girl. A little kindness from someone can make her overly emotional. I’m just being cautious—don’t want her to get too close to someone with questionable intentions.”

Was that a roundabout insult?

“You’re talking nonsense!” Lili rolled her eyes and fired back.

The argument quickly escalated, drawing attention from nearby crew members. He Song rushed to pull Lili aside. “Enough, it’s not worth the drama. Let’s change and eat—I’m starving.”

She turned to the assistant. “It’s listed in the casting sheet—I go by He Song now. I’ve legally changed my name, so please refer to me properly from now on.”

The assistant muttered under her breath, “Changing a name doesn’t change a person. A leopard can’t change its spots.”

Yu Dongdong tugged at her. “Sister Mei, I’m not feeling well…”

Realizing Dongdong’s condition, Mei finally helped her up and guided her away.

Lili stomped her foot in frustration. “Did you see her attitude? You’d think you were hitting on Yu Dongdong or something. Please, Miss Mo is way prettier.”

He Song: “…”

Well. To be fair, the original host had hit on her—and succeeded.

“Let’s just avoid her from now on.”

Ever since that tense lunch at Huiji Pavilion, He Song hadn’t spoken to Mo Qingran.

Had she discovered the mole?

Back in casual clothes, He Song and Lili walked to their nanny van, chatting about dinner. But as He Song opened the door, she spotted a woman in a silk pink dress sipping coffee inside, scrolling on her phone.

She looked up calmly at the sound.

Their eyes met.

He Song’s heart skipped a beat. Excitement rushed in. “Miss Mo? What brings you here?”

Perhaps her radiant smile was too infectious—Mo Qingran’s ears flushed faintly. She set down her coffee and replied lightly, “I came to see you. There’s something we need to talk about.”

He Song climbed into the van while Lili tactfully closed the door behind her and slipped into the front seat, all smiles.

“What’s the matter?” He Song asked.

Mo Qingran noticed the shorts she was still wearing and gently draped a white fleece blanket from home over her legs.

“It gets chilly at night, even if it’s hot during the day. You should always keep a blanket in the van.”

He Song looked down at the cozy blanket with mixed feelings. Lili had brought a jacket earlier, but they were always too busy to remember it.

She never expected Mo Qingran, of all people—so focused on her career—to be this attentive.

“Rough day on set?” Mo Qingran asked.

“A bit,” He Song admitted. “Between acting and running lines, it’s exhausting. Director Yan is such a perfectionist. If your gaze isn’t right, he’ll stop everything and explain it all again. But at least I didn’t drag the team down.”

“You know,” she added with a chuckle, “for one scene we shot in a dark pool, the lighting was so bad I couldn’t even see Yu Dongdong’s face. We had to blindly swing at each other. Later, we borrowed a huge light from another crew, and then the director said it was too bright—it reflected off the screen!”

She giggled. “Finally got the take, and the screenwriter goes, ‘Too much fighting, we’ll need to cut it.’ Nearly sent Director Yan into orbit.”

As she talked, Mo Qingran rested her cheek on her hand, listening quietly. In He Song’s words, hardship became humor. Exhaustion became memory.

All those struggles—they became her story.

“Yu Dongdong—is she the one acting opposite you?” Mo Qingran asked. Though unfamiliar with the name, it had been mentioned too many times tonight to ignore. It was grating on her nerves.

“Yeah. She’s the second lead in Fenghua Chronicle. She’s really talented and works super hard.”

Even if Yu Dongdong didn’t like Jiang Weiran much, He Song had to admit she was committed to her role—no ego, no complaints, always willing to reshoot.

She’d heard Yu Dongdong gained some fame from a web drama but hadn’t broken through since. This historical drama was her big chance.

“You like her?” Mo Qingran asked bluntly.

He Song blinked. Her heart jumped. She looked into those dark, unreadable eyes and stammered, “I—I just admire her. We’re both actors. I respect her dedication, but like her? No way. Really, no.”

Mo Qingran’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I never said what kind of like. No need to panic.”

Seeing her smile, He Song’s heart practically exploded. So pretty. Everything about her is pretty.

If she could see this every day…

Stop. STOP. Her brain hit the brakes.

You can’t crush on the female lead. That’s asking for trouble. You’ll lose more than your heart, He Song—you’ll lose your legs.

Regaining her composure, she changed the topic quickly. “About what I said the other day—did you look into it?”

Mo Qingran’s smile faded. She placed both hands on her lap and stared coldly out the window. “I did. And there’s more than one traitor. Since my parents died, plenty of people have switched sides.”

“I should’ve noticed earlier. Now that they’re gone, the house is finally clean.”

He Song didn’t ask what “gone” meant. She could imagine.

“Then… can you trust me now?”

Mo Qingran turned to look at her. In the dim light of the car, He Song’s gentle face was clear as day. She had witnessed betrayal and vengeance without a hint of fear.

Mo Qingran reached into her bag and pulled out the familiar contract. “I can’t tolerate betrayal. If we’re on the same ship—either we land together, or we sink together.”

He Song stared at the thick document in her hands.

Why does this feel like I’m signing my soul away?

Her fingers trembled. Was this really the right path? Could working with Mo Qingran change the fate written in the original story?

“Miss Mo, can I make a request?”

Mo Qingran: “Go ahead.”

He Song: “You say you can’t stand betrayal. Neither can I. I can promise never to hurt you, and to trust you completely—but can you promise me the same?”

“Because the way you sometimes trust, then suddenly doubt me… I’m afraid. One day, when suspicion wins, you might throw me overboard before I can even defend myself.”

“I…” Mo Qingran looked stunned, completely unguarded. “You’re still upset about the Huiji Pavilion incident, aren’t you? I did doubt you then, but I was wrong.”

She looked down, troubled and conflicted. “I know I’m naturally suspicious. I don’t trust easily. But I’ll try, He Song. That, I can promise you.”

He Song’s heart softened. She reached out and gently patted her head. “I know what you’ve been through. I understand your fears. I just wanted to protect myself too.”

“I’ll never hurt you. But if something ever goes wrong, I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain.”

Mo Qingran looked at her, eyes glittering like stars. “I will.”

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Author’s Note:

The contract is signed… isn’t it time for cohabitation? 👀💖